


Red Lights

by Blue_Sundays



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Car Accidents, Carlos-centric, Getting Together, M/M, No beta: we die like men, Street Racing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22463560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sundays/pseuds/Blue_Sundays
Summary: Fear, Carlos decides, can go fuck itself.Alternatively, 'not all addictions come in the form of drugs and alcohol.'
Relationships: Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star)/TK Strand
Comments: 6
Kudos: 143





	Red Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, 
> 
> I literally haven't written fanfiction in a year so big ups to 9-1-1 Lone Star for being to one to inspire me! All mistakes are my own because I wrote this late at night and I'm too lazy to edit.
> 
> Carlos is one of my favourite characters and I love that we don't know a whole heap about him yet (it means I can write shit like this haha!)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Fear is a strange feeling. It’s one that snakes up through your veins and eats its way through to the bone. One that makes your heart beat so hard that it feels like it’s going to fly out of your chest any second. Your palms so sweaty that holding on is not an option. Fear comes in many forms. 

Fear, Carlos decides, can go fuck itself. 

He’s sat behind the wheel of a 1993 Toyota Supra - no it’s not red like Paul Walker’s was. Carlos’ hands sweat on the leather steering wheel and his heart beats heavy in his ears. It’s the sound of a broken promise. He was never going to do this again. Mama had made him promise that the only time he’d burn rubber was on the job. And this? This was decidedly  _ not  _ on the job. Still, police work was low pay and Danny Reimer wanted cash. So, all hail the return of  _ Mysti. _

Mysti hums, her engine loud and rearing with excitement. 

_ Finally,  _ she says.

Fear is a strange feeling. And not because he’s never felt it before. Carlos has stared down the barrel of a gun more than once. Fear is strange because the steering wheel of Mysti should feel like home to him, the burning of her tyres and humming of her engine is usually soothing. And yet, despite the fact it’s been over six years since he’s raced, she feels as unfamiliar to him as holding a gun for the first time. 

The streets are barely lit by the orange glow of the street lamps. The floor rumbles as a 1995 Nissan Skyline pulls its way up next to him, and the driver glares at him from the window. Carlos waves a shaky hand. A woman in a skimpy top steps out into the street and waves a checkered flag. 

Go time. 

  
  
  


*

When TK admits his past with addiction Carlos immediately understands. Racing was like oxy except the high wasn’t where the pill touched his tongue, it was crossing the finish line first and a wad of cash that followed that was addictive. 

Carlos takes a moment to study the man before him. TK looks small as he slouches at Carlos’ desk and Carlos has to remind himself that there’s nothing between them. He watches as TK saunters off and ignores the way his stomach twists as TK’s silhouette disappears into the distance. 

Danny Reimer had been paid off months ago but Carlos finds himself at the meeting point once more. This time it’s behind a parking garage just outside Austin. The unmarked road stretches out before him as he pulls Mysti into her place at the start line. He’s got his “contribution” balled up in his jacket and a new spoiler on the back of Mysti. His mama’s voice rings in his ears as it normally does since he’d returned to racing.

Careena, who’s come to learn Carlos was a cop a few weeks back, gives him a wave as she stepped out onto the track.

Go time. 

  
  


*

The call comes at seven minutes after midnight.

Multi-vehicle crash.

Four wounded and one suspected fatality.

Illegal street race gone wrong. 

*

He’s upside down. The world outside is spinning around and around and around. Bile rises up in Carlos’ throat and he vomits, coughing as the sick runs into his nose and drips off his face and onto the roof of Mysti. 

‘Help!’ He tries to call out, gasping as the world spins harder around him.

The lights everywhere and Carlos can’t tell if they’re from the other cars or if he’s actually dying. 

‘Mama forgive me.’ He whispers like a mantra as he tries to unclip himself from the seat. No avail. 

Sirens echo in the distance and he can see the faint hues of blue and red. Fear grips his stomach. He is a cop. Carlos is a cop competing in illegal street races for a bit of extra cash. 

He’s going to lose his job for sure.

‘Help!’ Carlos splutters out once more. 

*

There’s a haze of blue-grey smoke that rises up in the distance and through the haze TK registers the four cars piled on top of each other. He’s not an expert in cars but none-the-less he listens intently as Judd lists them. 

‘1995 Nissan Skyline, that’s the white one. The blue on its side over there is a Mazda MX-5 and the red one next to it is a Nissan 300z.’ Judd points at each car and TK assesses the damage. ‘The silver Supra is going to have to be priority though.’

TK has never heard of a Supra but he doesn’t miss the bright silver and blue car on it’s back with its engine blowing as much smoke out as a chain smoking granny in the 1920s.

‘Let’s get a move on then.’ Captain Strand says as they pull their tools out from the rig. 

*

He’s been in and out of conscious now for far too long. Carlos might not be a medical expert, but even he knows that that’s not a good sign. His head feels both heavy and light at the same time and he can feel the metallic blood sludge its way down his face. Voices penetrate his head and he opens his eyes to the fire crew making their way towards him. And just as quick as he’d noticed the voices Carlos feels himself slip back into unconsciousness, eyelids too heavy to keep open. 

*

The light is blinding by the time Carlos awakens. The hospital walls gleam a bright white and the LED lights flicker uncomfortably. He sighs and holds in a grimace as the action causes his chest to ache. 

‘Hey, you’re awake.’ A voice says next to him. 

TK.

‘You gave me a real fright when I saw you in that car.’ TK says, his hair falling into his eyes and his hand slowly inching towards Carlos’.

‘I’m sorry.’ 

TK cracks a small smile.

‘Don’t be. I’m just really glad that you’re okay.’ Carlos sees that way TK’s hand keeps trying to slowly inch its way to his so he bites the bullet and connects them together. 

‘Why?’

TK doesn’t say anything. Instead he rubs his finger over Carlos’ hand and presses a chaste kiss to his head. 

‘Because you make me happy, and I never want to not feel that with you.’

A warm feeling spreads across Carlos’ body, he lets out a small giggle and reaches up to TK and pushes his fringe out of his eyes. 

‘You make me happy too.’ Carlos whispers. ‘Although you do stress me out.’

‘Hey! Let’s not forget who in this room had to be rescued from a car crash - speaking of which, you never told me you raced?’

Carlos says nothing and looks sheepishly down at the numerous scrapes and bruises scattering his body. 

‘I’m going to lose my job aren’t I?’

‘Hey now, don’t say that.’ TK grips Carlos’ hand tighter and presses a kiss to his thumb. ‘The future is never set out, and either way we’ll get through this together - you and me.’

Fear is a strange feeling. It’s one that snakes up through your veins and eats its way through to the bone. One that makes your heart beat so hard that it feels like it’s going to fly out of your chest any second. Your palms so sweaty that holding on is not an option. Fear comes in many forms. 

Fear, Carlos decides, can go fuck itself. 

He pushes himself up off the bed and tries not to wince as the action pulls at his bandages. If TK wanted all in, then Carlos wanted all in too. 

He plants a small kiss on TK’s chapped lips and they rest their foreheads against each other. 

‘You and me, together yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive critiscism is always welcome and greatly appreciated. 
> 
> As is every kudos and comment, so please say hi :)


End file.
